


like dying embers

by meduise



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Bucking Horse Stampede spoilers, Captivity, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Established Relationship, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Married Couple, Past Character Death, Rescue Missions, brief emeto mentions, dino is 40, hibari is 34, oc is 35, reader may decide oc's status at the end of the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:40:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meduise/pseuds/meduise
Summary: A long time ago, Dino and Hibari sealed a promise. They refuse to die by the hand of anyone who isn’t each other.Over twenty years after the conflict between Cavallone and Irregolare, one of the handful survivors of the latter family, Tigre's relative, makes his appearance. He seeks revenge against Dino and kidnaps him with the intent to kill him.Hibari spends all his resources to bring Dino back safe and sound, not without nervous breakdowns.a fic for dinohiba day
Relationships: Dino/Hibari Kyouya
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	1. devastation

**Author's Note:**

> this year was a whole mess on so many levels, i.e i wrote newly weds sex for d18 first encounter day and now here i am with 10k words of angst on their ~~marriage anniversary~~ actual day (laughs)  
> well, this guy has tons of angst, but its still d18 day, so it couldnt have a bad end  
> these 10k words were a challenge i set for myself, and im impressed by my own result!  
>  ~~and since its me none of the main charas is cis here w~~
> 
> i hope you will like this fic!! happy dinohiba day!!

_Beloved brother enemy_

_I sing my sword song for you._

* * *

"Kyo-san. Cavallone's right-hand man contacted us. The Bucking Horse has disappeared."

People don’t need to be close to Dino to know that if there is anything he would _never_ take into account, then it definitely is deliberating running away from his family. If he has disappeared it means something must have happened to him, and the atmosphere at the Foundation is understandably all but merry, with Hibari being one breath away from a violent outburst.

 _“There’s a high chance that the boss was kidnapped,”_ is the complete report of a terrified Romario to Kusakabe. It may be no more than a feeling, or a hypothesis, but considering the world they live in, it’s not an unlikely reality. Kusakabe can’t hide it from Hibari.

It would have been a billion times worse if the news were about Dino dropping dead, but _because_ this is a war of criminals, thirsty for blood, power, money and revenge, the fall of the Bucking Horse _is_ a possible outcome, too.

Hibari has always been uncommunicative about what he is scared of, he prefers leaving people doubt that there is anything that frightens him in the first place. But just like everyone else, he does have a number of fears that he wishes only stayed gruesome visions — or better, that they entirely stopped turning the few bright thoughts his mind allows him to have into gloomy, blood-stained nightmares.

Apart from Hibari's rapid breathing, nothing makes a sound in the room. This tense silence is louder in Kusakabe's ears than in Hibari's.

On the other hand, when a whirlwind of thoughts is screaming in your ears, and when your heart is pounding in your chest as if it's about to break out of it, you don't pay attention to the silence around you.

Hibari doesn't even _perceive_ the silence reigning inside of the building. 

Losing Dino is Hibari's worst fear — he comes to terms with it in this moment where his reasoning is clogged by irrationality, where the intensity of his reactions prevents him to see colors and think straight. 

Getting increasingly upset with each word that phrases the report, Hibari grips his phone as if it's the thin line his self control hangs to, and dials Dino’s number.

He loses the count of the times he hangs up and starts the call again.

Then he tries with Romario's number. But there must be a fuss at the Cavallone residence in Japan — as well as at the headquarters in Italy — because, in fact, not even Romario picks up.

Not hearing any voice come from the other end of either call is the last straw before Hibari gives in to wrath and rushes outside of his base with furious steps that don’t care about what they tread on. Metal spreads cold to Hibari’s hands and arms, dangerously tingling and clacking. An enraged sulk betrays fret.

Hibari doesn’t know where he is about to go, but with the news of his husband going missing, he can’t tolerate being stuck inside four walls. His safest space suddenly feels oppressing. He can’t stay there. He gets past Kusakabe with void filling his irids, with muteness shouting out of the tight seam of his mouth. He is going to search for Dino. They were together only a few days ago. How could have this happened? His chest is one heartbeat away from exploding. He is sure that what Romario said isn't just an assumption. Someone aimed at Dino. Hibari's breath gets heavier at each face of their enemies he pictures in front of his eyes. There are so many of them. There must be more that neither him nor Dino himself knows of. Hibari doesn’t know from whom to start.

He will crush down to hell all of them.

And when Hibari finds the one who dared touching the man who is the dearest to him, he swears that for them he will sing a lullaby of obliteration. He will sway the most excruciating, crimson dance. He will make them regret even _the thought_ of committing this crime.

* * *

Cold and stillness.

An eerie kind of tranquility rises up from this sombre place. Is it a field? A room? Is it wide or narrow?

Dino can’t tell. Dino can’t see a damn thing except _grey._

He seems to be the only living being in here.

… Actually, he isn't even sure whether he is alive or not. He can’t feel his breath, his body doesn’t respond, he shouts but no voice leaves his lungs.

He thinks to himself, in fear, _"Maybe this is hell's gate."_

Hundreds of needles jabbed in his flesh: this is how Dino feels suddenly. Pain starts creeping up onto more parts of his body altogether, but the fog in his head doesn't let him understand what _precisely_ hurts.

It’s easier to tell what does _not_ hurt, and it’s not a single muscle. Not a single bone.

It's hard to breathe, opening his eyes is a challenge, moving is nearly impossible without getting the impression of being crushed into pieces by a hammer.

Dino coughs, gags and vomits nothing but blood. His throat emits a weak, choked and pained groan filled with disgust. If for an instant he was conscious, now he is again no more.

Hazy nothing surrounds Dino again, but this time the pool of mist doesn’t block his movements. His feet move on his own, wandering around the space in search of a person, an animal, an object, anything that can prove to him he hasn’t been sucked into emptiness.

But he doesn’t spot anything. He can’t see past his nose.

His senses heighten, so that he can be prepared against any threat.

He feels like he is stepping into mud, and it starts nauseating him. At least now he is sure that he is _somewhere_. Somewhere _physical._ Although this doesn’t reassure him in the slightest.

Dino doesn’t have any control over his joints, and he doesn’t realize the moment where he has started running. He runs at his full speed through the vale, and the further he goes on, the tighter the space feels. Oxygen begins to be scarce, and he is frightened by the fact that in spite of it, he isn’t feeling fatigued.

He is out of breath but he keeps running…

Behind Dino’s back, the dull hue has darkened, but it’s not quite black, instead it’s a dusky dust that merges with grey, creating the color of a morass.

In an indefinite spot far ahead of him, a white hole sticks out from within the fog, too little to blind him, too little to be _anything,_ but it gives Dino hope that there’s a way out of here. He strains his muscles to reach that point, but that light never grows bigger, never feels closer.

Loud is the thought that tells him he has just made it up. _There is no light, there is no exit._ Only darkness clutching onto his throat, keeping him stuck, devouring him, suffocating him in an exiled land where nobody can see him.

He doesn’t stop running...

It’s cold again. Colder than before. Freezing, frigid. Dino realizes to be glued to the ground, and he gets a headache solely from the attempt to think about how or when he fell.

Only minutes later it hits him that he isn’t sinking into mud, but he is lying on a solid floor. Something bothers his shoulder, and it’s probably the feeling that comes from being in an uncomfortable position for longer than the body can stand.

It takes him another bunch of seconds to notice that his arms are unnaturally tied behind his back, and it’s what would make him jolt with his eyes wide open, if only he hadn’t been deprived of his sight with a thick, black blindfold.

With his brain on fire, Dino twists and twitches in an attempt to free himself of the rope that is scratching his wrists, and he burns with the frustration of not seeing a thing and not being able to untangle the knots.

Not only that: his body screams in pain again, and now he's conscious enough to tell that the core of this agony comes from his left leg, besides his stomach.

Like a thunder on clear sky, he remembers getting shot in that leg, but the last memories he has are about the bullets of his own gun missing the thug that had targeted him, and of him writhing due to the iron splitting his thigh open in three different spots.

Dino sits up and rubs his head against his healthy knee as if he had been tied up with a belt of dynamite. The seconds he takes to remove the fabric from his eyes are enough to mean instant death if that had been actually the case.

The blindfold is pushed up to Dino’s forehead, ruffling his bangs in a way that it would make it hard to comb. He blinks twice even though there is no flashing light to get accustomed to.

When Dino raises his head, a pair of big, white drops with little, bloody irids and a distorted, sinister grimace are there to greet him, only a few inches away from his nose. It’s the face of the devil.

Dino's heart jumps out of his chest, he jerks back and shouts — a harsh stomping noise breaks his voice in hisses and wails. Physically, Dino is currently so weak that slamming his head against a wall so violently should knock him out for good once again, but on the contrary the jumpscare keeps him wide awake, if not lucid.

Trying to calm down, Dino leans with his back against what he believes is a wall, feeling the cold spread through his spine, quickly glancing around to understand where he is right now.

… He doesn't have any clue about it.

At first, it feels like Dino is at the bottom of a well — very deep and very tight. His hands sense something wet and he closes his eyes praying that it’s just a puddle of water, but anxiety yells at him that that fluid must be blood. The air _is_ stenched with iron, in fact.

Has his leg lost so much blood or has this been the scene of plenty of murders? Dino doesn’t want to know.

The night light peeks in through a cell window placed at least two meters above Dino’s head, and an amber torch gives an even scarier look to that face that is looking at him with malicious gloat. He can’t look at it, it’s awful, it’s the manifestation of a monster he had only seen in his nightmares, and it takes him an inhuman amount of effort to not burst out crying in front of it.

Dino can't see well, but he _feels_ that in this room there is nothing, no one but him and whoever that ghoul is. He’s stuck, stuck, stuck, injured, incapacitated, locked up, with head and stomach still screaming, and at the mercy of a beast. _He’s stuck._

He swallows saliva, but his throat rebels against it and he chokes on his spit.

In front of him, that demon reveals his voice, derisive of Dino's pitiful state, and _goddamn_ if it looks like it's enjoying the show.

It may already be showing off a horrifying smirk but its traits don’t change shape even with such a boisterous laughter. Before this moment Dino was too shaken to see that it’s just a mask.

"Who are you?" Dino manages to ask as his throat is finally free from its clog. There’s moist in his eyes. His lips tremble from pain and cold.

That pitched laughter that has tortured his ears ceases, and there's a grave silence for a few seconds that feel endless.

Dino almost prefers the loud mockery.

"No need to use Japanese with me," the grin says with a dull tone, so dark compared to the gleeful, mad cackle from earlier. "Nor English."

What almost impresses Dino is the fluency with which Italian rolls out of that smirk. He doesn't recognize the voice, though.

Dino syllables again, "Who are you?"

Now he is speaking Italian, too, and he decorates the question with a pretty vulgar insult.

"Someone who really hates you,” the mask replies, completely ignoring the epithet. Then, with a sharp voice, it punctuates, "My dear nemesis, tenth Bucking Horse."

The dear nemesis in question is shocked and distressed for a moment, but the very next second he allows himself to be genuinely amused by what his ears have just heard, and he scoffs.

Air turns into a knife, and his laughter cuts his throat from the inside, making him emit choked noises again. They are cracked, almost silent chuckles followed by a panted, irregular breath. The wounds are surely making themselves be heard much louder in his body. 

Dino may be tied up, beaten up and have blood running out of his mouth, chest, stomach and leg; he may be definitely disadvantaged towards the masked individual who imprisoned him, but he still has something to joke about.

"Glad to be so important in someone's life," is his petty remark.

The mask does a good job hiding the owner's dark pout.

Behind it, icy eyes burn with sudden anger, dying to grind Dino to dust with a glance. 

Behind it, this person is ripping his brains off because he feels so exposed by that sentence alone and he almost shouts that _this_ is what he hates the most about him.

He clenches his fists around the dark vest he wears, almost shaking with anger, and only regaining composure when he remembers that it's _him,_ the one who is in control. _He_ is the hunter and Dino is just a defenseless prey. 

"Laugh while you can," the mask mutters.

The bronze hue of the torch isn't giving shape to the grimace anymore, a sign that he has likely stood up.

One breath later, the demon appears face-to-face to Dino again, scaring him _again_ , making him look away _again._

Dino's headache worsens when his hair is pulled strongly enough to feel like it's going to get ripped. He's forced to look right at those scarlet dots.

If only his legs responded, Dino would land a kick and run away.

The person's free hand reaches his mask, which clacks in Dino's ears.

There is not enough light to see, but two crystalline eyes glow in the dark. For a moment, they remind Dino of the color of Hibari's eyes, but while he has long started to discern a warm gleam in Kyoya's usually hard and murderous gaze, the irids past his own tremble with coldness and hatred. They are as sharp as broken glass. They're staring at his soul. They're not less scary than the mask.

Dino feels something tickling his cheek, and he's going to assume it's this person's hair — neck-length, brunette hair splitting in two thick bangs that cover pierced ears and expose his forehead.

"You want to know who I am?"

His voice breathes on the seam of Dino's mouth. He doesn't wait for an answer. "My name is Diego."

And Dino makes sure to print it in his mind. He doesn't say anything. He's not pleased to make this acquaintance. 

"You don't know me," Diego restarts talking, unbothered, had it not been for a grin twisting his lips up in a sadistic curve. "But you must remember the name Tigre Irregolare."

A wheeze escapes Dino's mouth, emptying him from all the air in his lungs. That's a name he hadn't heard in years, a name he has always wished to forget but never managed to. A name that only brings back despicable memories of his teenage years. A name that should have died along with the very person who carried it, but has survived through the years, the root of Dino's trauma.

The fear that Tigre may have actually survived the incident that occurred twenty-four years prior and that he has been living in the shadows all this time, sickens Dino to his core. He struggles to ease his breath.

Diego could live off the terror that the Bucking Horse is trying so hard to hide.

"Tigre is not alive," Diego spits, as if he could read Dino's mind. His resentment slaps his prisoner's face. He pulls his blond hair even more firmly, making him groan. In a loathsome crescendo of anger, he screams, "And it’s because of you. I'll avenge him. I'll kill you!"

Dino's attempt to ask Diego who Tigre is to him chokes in the back of his throat. He can only stare back at him with just as much rage, except that every inch of his body only radiates disgust. Distress.

When Diego has cooled his blood down, he smirks again, fidgeting an object and making sure that Dino sees what it is. Judging from the cerulean spark of black glass, Dino painfully assumes it's his own phone. His last resort.

"I hope you told your family and your husband that you love them, Bucking Horse." Diego jerks his arm. Dino doesn't see the motion, but the shattering noise that comes from the opposite wall is enough to tell what's become of that device. "Because you are going to die here."

Diego stands up, freeing Dino from his grip, not before he has crushed Dino’s nose against his knee. Then, Diego is on his way to reach the other side of the room, walking silent steps. He picks his torch and cracks Dino's phone with his feet, spiteful, in case it didn't break with that violent crash from earlier.

He pays the Bucking Horse one last, deadly stare, and leaves the jail, slamming the door behind him.

The metallic screech of the door reaches Dino’s ears as a distant noise, like a creepy background sound. Louder is the whistling of his terror, louder are the gunshots and the screams of the civilians and criminals — allies and enemies alike — that he hears as if he is currently in the middle of the conflict between the Cavallone family and the Irregolare family.

Only the harsh sound of the door getting closed and locked puts an abrupt end to the horrid visions of the past. Dino quivers, then he heaves out a pained sigh and closes his eyes hoping that when he reopens them, he can brush this whole situation off as an awful dream.

But it's hard to wake up from a nightmare, when you're not even asleep.

Every inch of Dino’s body is crying in pain, but it’s probably this very pain that sets fire to his survival instinct. The adrenaline takes the better of him. He slides against the wall in a frenetic search of a spike or a thorn to untie his hands. Spasms so intense that it looks like he's fighting against a horde of hornets. A battle that he's not meant to win.

Dino crawls on the ground, ignoring his wounds that are begging him to give up. He forces himself to move until his hands touch the portal of salvation, leaving a trail of blood behind him, resisting harm and thirst, mentally slapping himself awake with the last of reasoning left in him. He's going to faint. Again. But he can't. The door seems so close. It could be just made up, though. Maybe this prison doesn't have a gate at all, and he will perish inside of it, just like that demon from before warned him about. 

Just like the shiny dot and the dull field that he saw in the dream he had before. 

Dino's arms don't have the strength to sustain him anymore. His injured leg has lost all sensitivity, and as if it isn't part of his body, it refuses to be dragged around any longer. He can’t breathe properly.

Dino ends up giving in to strain. There aren't words to describe the heaviness that makes all his muscles sink in the ground, now that the adrenaline effect has reached its end.

He only has the strength to do one thing, and it's thinking about Kyoya. The simple dream of him. The wish to go back to him. The prayer that he will come to save him. He is almost hit by the fear of abandonment, but not even captivity into the unknown shakes the conviction that Kyoya wouldn't let him die.

Dino breaks down in tears, giving himself comfort as he gets memories from the last day he spent with Hibari — only a little time has passed since, but it feels so long ago.

Real memories merge with made up conversations, and Dino loses consciousness again with the thought of his husband promising to get him out of here.

* * *

Hibari won’t come back to the Foundation until late night, covered with blood, bruises and sweat, and with a cracked ring on his hand that will shatter with the next flame activation.

When Hibari steps in his room, it’s like he comes back to his senses all of the sudden. He realizes he has little-to-no recollection of what he has just done outside, but his stained suit is enough proof that he went unhinged, and only in a few hours he has managed to screw up all the good intentions and the calmness he had built over the years.

As he takes off the dirty clothes, he barely pays heed to all the scratches and contusions, more thankful that he doesn’t have any bleeding wound, because he is not sure he’d have treated them properly, in his current state.

Hibari reaches his bed, wanting to sleep. But his restlessness takes the better of his senses and his needs.

He sees Dino when he closes his eyes.

In no way Hibari is going to sleep when someone got the Bucking Horse. He stands up again, head spinning for a few seconds because he shifted too quickly. But rather than heading out a second time, he picks his phone and his laptop. It was his wish to never have to track Dino down, it’s a despicable action to take in a couple, but Hibari _has to_ find Dino and bring him back.

It’s definitely not vile to look into your partner’s movements after hearing the news that he was kidnapped.

Other than using the common ring radars, Dino and Hibari agreed upon a quick system to communicate with each other without being tracked by external people in case of emergency, but the fact that Hibari hasn’t received the request for help makes him even more concerned, rather than relaxed.

And his gut feeling doesn’t miss. Not only his radar doesn’t detect any flame that could belong to Dino, all Hibari gets when he tries to contact him is a notice of missing signal — even worse than the empty ringing sounds that sent Hibari on the edge just earlier.

There is nothing more frustrating than putting all your effort into something and not getting the result you hope for — or any result at all. The nervous scratches on Hibari’s hands are going to take a while to fade. It’s not going to be easy to hide the scarlet, vivid skin around his nails if he keeps picking at it until he sees blood, and even after. That crack on the wall will need to be fixed.

If Hibari hasn’t slammed his laptop on the floor yet, it’s only because it would mean destroying his main — and currently sole — source of information, and he can’t allow himself to lose all his work because he is about to have a fit. Not when Dino’s life is on the line.

Hibari stares at the empty map displayed on the screen and breathes deeply, but focusing on his breath doesn’t help him calm down. If anything, it makes him fidget _more_.

Many years have passed since Hibari gave in to his furious impulses to cope. He’s still easily irritable, but it’s currently rare to see his body move faster than he can think, bottle up feelings and erupt like a volcano.

An exasperated growl accompanies the sound of crushing furniture, and Hibari is too busy rubbing his eyes with the intent to rip them off to bother with the burning pain he gave himself kicking the table with his knee and foot.

Hibari eventually understood that crying isn’t just for the weaklings who can’t bear with their burdens, and proved to himself that it’s a helpful way to make his negativity flow away, but this doesn’t mean that he is not going to hate it when on his face he feels nothing but that angry sadness that washes his cheeks and makes him shake uncontrollably.

He rubs his wedding ring as if it’s the only thing that can keep him tied to reality, trying to come up with new routes to follow and barely succeeding, almost torn apart by the deprecation for losing his characteristic coolness.

Brainless, desperate research isn’t going to take Hibari anywhere, and he fights against the urge to break his device again. There aren't going to be any glass pieces or chips around the room, but he can’t help slamming the monitor close anyway. He wipes his tears away and tries to control his breath again, however it’s still broken by frustrated sighs. He almost rips his skin off as he rubs his hands on his face. 

Hibari hates not knowing what to do, not knowing where to go. He can't recognize himself.

Hibari can count the times in his life where he has felt like he hit a dead end on the fingers of one hand. They are so rare, but they all have managed to make his pridefulness waver. 

Tonight, Hibari has lost his fight against his feelings.

Even for someone who loves quietness, this room has become way too silent. Nothing can put an end to the train of thoughts that fog Hibari’s mind.

When it’s hard for him to control his impulses, only meditation, even just a few minutes of it, suffices proper support.

Deciding to leave laptops, phones and any other communication tool alone for a while, Hibari sits on his knees in the perfect centre of the room. He may have smiled briefly when his little bird turned his messy hair into its own comfortable nest.

Hibari forces himself to shut his mind away from any hindrance, and all he sees at the moment is pitch black. But keeping his eyes closed is only the easiest part. The part with superficial effect.

The roar in Hibari's thoughts is still as disastrous as a crowd of people who are trying to run away from a building on fire.

A transparent drop runs down Hibari's cheek again, and he lets it go, he lets it break the frown on his face. If just earlier he was getting distressed over the fact that he was _merely_ crying, now he almost accepts it.

The rampage has finally started to calm down, and as his heart is slowly returning to a peaceful beat, Hibari is reminded of three things. Three easy concepts.

_He is strong._

_He is magnanimous._

_His strength doesn't lie in bringing destruction anymore, but in being beneficial._

Diamond eyes open to the world again, still red and moisty, but sparkling with a different light. Or rather, with the usual, confident light.

Hibari loves Dino. Hibari is going to save Dino.

No matter what.

He has the resources, the will and the power to make his husband come back safely. The only thing he is lacking is time: any minute that passes, any _second_ that passes is a dangerous waste. Potentially lethal.

Hibari needed a break to sort out his inner turmoil, but from now on there can be no idleness. No hesitation.

Before Hibari can even get up and walk up to the door, he gets snapped out of his thoughts by a familiar voice that calls his name.

“Kyo-san.”

Hibari jolts and turns his face towards the direction of that voice, that comes from the other side of the door. He may have been taken aback, but he doesn’t dismiss Kusakabe — if anything, he’s almost pleased that he has approached him before Hibari himself demanded his presence.

Hibari lets Tetsu in, and if the latter has something to say, it’s momentarily tossed aside when he makes contact with those eyes that have clearly just poured a fountain of tears. Despite being together for about the past thirty years, Kusakabe can’t recall a single time where he saw Hibari cry before this instant. He feels like he has bumped into a secret that he should have never found out about, and nearly forgets that if Hibari didn’t want to be looked at in this state that is the closest to vulnerability that he can get, he would have simply forbidden him from coming in.

Kusakabe clears his voice. A vain attempt at pretending he didn’t notice anything. A useless aim, also because Hibari starts talking before Tetsu can do it.

“Get ready, Tetsu, we’re heading to the Cavallone’s.”

It’s a good thing that his voice doesn’t sound any less assertive than usual even after all the crying. Kusakabe could have sworn that he knew Hibari already had something in mind.

“Understood,” Kusakabe responds, and then he hazards, “Should we ask for Vongola's help, too?”

A _“No”_ thunders from Hibari’s mouth to Tetsu’s ears before the latter can even properly finish the sentence, but Kusakabe is not so upset: he had expected a harsh rejection.

Hibari has always tended to avoid dragging Sawada in his business as much as possible, stubbornly refusing his help because that would mean going against his own pride.

Hibari only ever asks for the Foundation’s assistance, but this is his own organization he gives commands to; or he reaches out to Dino himself — however, cooperating in most of their missions has been their plan ever since before getting married. Therefore neither of these technically mean _asking for help_.

 _Because_ it’s Dino’s life what we’re talking about, Hibari will consider requesting further backup if it’s needed. But besides, neither the Foundation nor the Cavallone family are so weak that they constantly need Vongola the Tenth to give them a hand.

Hibari’s mind is still set on making the culprit pay for what they’ve done by himself.


	2. regeneration

_I see a grey gloom on the horizon_

_That promises a powerful sun to rise._

* * *

The sky is colored with the same dark blue of the night that triumphed when Dino lost his senses the second time, therefore just by looking out of that miniscule window there is no way telling how much time has passed.

It could be just a bunch of minutes. Or hours. Or a whole day, like the whiny rumbling of Dino's stomach suggests. Not only he's starved, but his lips and throat are also crying out their cravings for a glass of water, and his body shifts on its own, either because it can't stand the cold or in search of a better posture.

Dino tries standing up, but even with all the effort it’s basically impossible to keep balance when he has his hands glued to his back and every inch of his body is shaking. He only manages to lift his butt from the ground a little, and for no more than mere seconds. His legs give up on him and he falls on the floor again — a pained growl escapes his lips.

The only way to tell that he still has both of his legs is looking down at his lower half. The pain has reached the level where the injured leg doesn’t even pulse anymore: it feels like all the blood has already flown out of the wound, and all that remains of the limb is its mere shell made of worn skin.

Scarlet scratches and purple contusions mark Dino's figure from head to toes, but none looks as bad as his left leg.

Dino dares glancing at it, and he is abhorred with the sight of the scabs and discharge of those shots that have never been taken care of. He has been injured countless times over the years, he has fought so many battles, his whole body is scarred to the point that even bits of his majestic tattoo have been erased. Dino saw so many wounds on other people — oh, all the times he had to hold back from throwing up when he helped Hibari treat his bruises before Sun boxes became reality — and he saw wounds on _dead_ people. His leg condition is nothing short of that of a corpse.

Dino is starting to be scared that it will have to be amputated.

Some meters away within walking distance, there is another dark building that seems even smaller than that jail. An untidy desk takes away a great part of the space of the room.

Only one person would ever manage to shut himself inside of it.

Diego tucks his hair behind his ears as his icy irids witness each and single one of Dino's survival struggles behind a monitor.

Next to it, the slim figure of a man dressed in an elegant, striped, blue suit printed on an old postcard enjoys the show with Diego.

That photo portrays no other than Tigre.

Diego's voice resounds all over the cell Dino is trapped in, freezing him up on spot. “I see you woke up again, Bucking Horse.”

The voice isn’t so distorted, despite being amplified by a speaker whose exact location is unknown. To Dino’s ears, it sounds like the whole jail may as well be entirely made of speakers.

“The next time you close your eyes,” Diego says, as if he is humming a song, but a chuckle breaks the line before he can even finish it. “You may not be able to open them anymore.”

There is no need to ask what he means by that. Dino can perfectly tell. And the fear that it may actually be the case creeps up on him in the form of cold sweat and miserable thoughts about what would be of his family and about not wanting to leave Kyoya’s side.

A long time ago, Dino and Hibari sealed a promise. It’s their motivation to win every battle and to triumph over any enemy. A secret oath that constantly fuels fervor to their relationship.

They refuse to die by the hand of anyone who isn’t each other.

Hibari, who was barely twenty at that time, has made sure that Dino would never forget about it in the years that came after, but Dino has given Kyoya his fair share of reminders as well: constant reminders that they will fight — as allies, combining their strengths perfectly, or as opponents, to test each other's ability — that at some point they will split and then, ultimately, they will welcome one another into their arms, until they decide to put an end to this sorry game of muppets, where they are both powerful enough to be the leaders, but not enough to leave and be free.

But whenever the end happens, it has to be _their_ choice, not the decision of a person who has appeared all of the sudden to express his hatred towards who he thinks is the cause of his despair.

Dino almost finds comfort again in these thoughts, but at the same time, the feeling of hopelessness that used to go hand-in-hand with him when he was a teenager, a feeling he hadn't missed at all, makes him drown deeper and deeper each second he spends being caged in the middle of darkness, tilting his chin high, gaping and grasping at the instinct that tells him that he can’t surrender yet.

“Why don’t you come here and kill me already?”

If Dino wants to sound daring, his attempt has completely failed. His croaky whisper reaches Diego’s ears as something closer to a plea rather than to an aggressive challenge.

Diego _loves_ to hear it. Dino regrets opening his mouth.

Diego nearly screams through his sadistic laughter, “And where’s the fun? If I wanted you dead quickly, I would have ordered my men to shoot you in the head, not in a leg.”

Had Dino not been tied up and writhing on the ground, his natural reaction would be remarking how it wasn’t even Diego himself to pull the trigger, but he needed thugs to do it for him. Instead, he almost spills blood as he bites the seam of his lips in order not to make a fool out of himself a second time, with what has remained of his voice.

Diego’s voice gets even sharper instead. “I want to see you _rot_ here.”

The speakers start raining vivid details about Dino and Diego’s hometown, that was cheerful and picturesque until a war between gangs set off and blood stained its streets.

The jail painfully resounds with excuses for Tigre’s actions, as if he wasn’t the man who onesidedly and single-handedly blew the wind of conflict, sending both Cavallone and innocent residents into a panic for months. Only someone so devoted, so _obsessed_ could twist and justify what the leader in tiger-striped suit did and wish he were still alive.

If Diego’s words were a sword they would pierce Dino’s chest.

Dino wasn’t even _actually_ the one who took Tigre’s life and ceased the conflict, but the guy who keeps him jailed doesn’t seem to care.

Diego has been driven by hatred for all his life. He only sees what he wants to see.

And he sees the tenth boss of Cavallone as the calamity who took away the person who was more like a brother than a cousin to him, making him drown in the ocean of desperation. He keeps screaming, on his tongue rolls nothing but the lifelong desire to kill Dino.

So, the person who got the Bucking Horse is someone who had planned to get his revenge for his whole life, but he won’t even be brave enough to murder him with his own hands?

Ironically, Dino and Diego share similar stories. Cavallone the Ninth also lost his life in that battle, by the gun of someone from Tigre’s thugs.

Dino is still repenting for the misdeeds that got his old man killed.

The more Diego brings memories of the past back, the more Dino has to persuade himself from thinking that he met this person sometimes in his childhood days.

He gets so upset when can finally give a name to that quiet child that he often saw sitting on a seesaw from lunchtime to early evening, all alone. He remembers his unsuccessful attempt to approach him to play together. It hurts to realize that that kid is the same person who currently keeps yelling at his face how much he wants to see him dead.

Each one of Diego's insults is one step closer to the prisoner's exasperation, and while just moments earlier his voice was so cracked that it itched his throat, now it suddenly makes the walls quake with the overwhelming dread of living his worst trauma all over again. 

Dino can't hold back the tears any longer, either, and they merge with the blood that has dried on his face. His stomach, already ruined by hunger and anxiety, acts up even more with disgust. 

He cries out to his enemy.

_Do you think that it was easy for me?_

_That I wanted it? That I'm happy with it?_

_That you're the only one who lost someone dear to you?_

Theirs is not a war fought with blades.

It's a war fought with loathsome words. Words that they had kept sealed in their minds for so long because they are so crude. It’s a war where they yell at each other the worst kind of insults, with the intent to slaughter the other before the other slaughters them. 

Dino is getting so carried away with his madness, that he nearly forgets he is still the one at disadvantage against Diego.

Diego had planned plenty of ways to make the Bucking Horse perish in this prison prepared for him for the occasion, and he doesn't mean to stop torturing Dino any sooner. Neither physically, nor emotionally.

Diego of the dismantled family named Irregolare is going to make the tenth bearer of the Bucking Horse title beg for his own life.

Diego will make Dino shake from all his deepest fears — even the most secret, those that will make Dino question whether Diego has digged _so much_ into his character or getting them right is just a coincidence.

Dino will grip onto his will to live and onto all his means to get out of here, but even someone like him can lose all hope.

Sometimes you are just not strong enough.

* * *

The Foundation has been an anthill in search of the slightest hint about who the real deal among the hundreds of insects that would rather see the Bucking Horse dead than alive may be. Despite having skills and technology by their side, the ex members of the Disciplinary Committee haven’t come up with much useful information in two days. Hibari has been on the edge almost the entire time, anxious that every minute that passes may be the minute that marks his husband’s death.

If Hibari hasn’t lost his composure again, it’s also thanks to Kusakabe’s reassurance, but he does reach the point where words don’t mean anything anymore and he only wants facts. The point where the presence of his men almost feels like a nuisance and he really just wants to reunite with Dino.

But finally, after almost fifty hours have passed since the news about Dino’s disappearance, a route might have opened.

Hibari is only a blink away from passing out on his desk when his name echoes through every corner of the room, making him flinch on his chair and nearly snap.

"Kyo-san, I'm sorry to bother you," — there shouldn't even be a need for Kusakabe to apologize — "But according to the records, an unusual gathering took place three days ago within a mile from our invisible entry near the sanctuary, around 4 A.M."

That's when Dino had left the secret base after spending some time with Kyoya.

Kusakabe speaks again, "It's only a few seconds, but it's clear that there were three men. Perhaps another one was hidden in the woods, too. This record stops as they all seem to have a conversation. Maybe trafficking. We are checking the other videos."

Hibari demands to see the first tape, and Kusakabe adjusts his laptop so that Hibari can look at the screen, then he rewinds the record. It's black and white considering it was taken in the middle of the night.

The first thing Hibari notices is the difference between two men's dark clothes and the third man's fair trench. He freezes when he recognizes the dark belt loosened around that man's waist.

Hibari commands again, "Show me all the records. Immediately."

In barely fifteen minutes, Hibari is in possession of all the videos he had asked for. He analyzes every single frame, sitting at his desk, with Tetsu and Romario standing next to him, bending over the desk in tension and distress, their eyes glued to the monitor. 

It's a grand total of two minutes and a half of recording, but so much happens in that short amount of time.

For a good minute, the three men seem to do nothing but talk, like Kusakabe informed earlier. However, halfway through the video, two guns appear on the screen, but only one gets the target: the body of the person wearing the fair coat contorts. He falls on his knees and holds himself with the help of the unarmed hand.

This moment of vulnerability means the end for him. One of the guys assaults the man with the trench, blocking him by his arms. The victim doesn't have room to defend himself, although he does try to throw punches at first.

It can't be seen well from the camera angle, but the thug at the back of the victim must have smashed his head with a steel stick or anything of the sort, knocking him out.

The video ends with the gang crawling its victim out of the scene as if they are instants away from being arrested. If there really was a shadow in the woods, Hibari's eagle eyes must have caught it.

Much to the disdain of all the people in the room, Hibari can confirm that the man wearing the trench coat is Dino. He wants to throw up.

For what they have seen, Dino may have as well died there. But while horrified, they aren't discouraged, and they simultaneously, silently agree that it can’t have ended there.

The Bucking Horse is alive, somewhere. He has to be. 

All that is left is identifying the other men. Then, the Foundation can track their location.

A raid is pointless if they don’t have an exact place where to burst in, so Hibari’s research still has to be continued mostly remotely.

Getting the ruffians’ identikit is no easy task, but Hibari is at the same time satisfied and relieved when he comes up with two portraits of the criminals.

Romario is shocked when he looks at them: he recognizes their faces from the day where he was ganged up on and held at gunpoint by Tigre’s subordinates. Tigre, _that bastard._

These people have aged up, for sure, they must be around his own age, but how can he even forget their faces?

His voice cracks in his throat. A whisper escapes his lips, “It’s the Irregolare. They’re back.”

Kusakabe has no clue who Romario is talking about, whereas Hibari understands right away.

Hibari was curious about how Dino inherited his title and his tattoo, so, when Dino was ready to open up about his past, it was only a given to hear about this family name. And to hear about Tigre.

None of the two had expected this name would make a comeback. Arriving in Japan can only have two explanations: either they’re trying to build their filthy business here or their aim was the Bucking Horse from the start — extremely likely, if they knew exactly where Dino was and at what time he was there.

And this, to Hibari, is unforgivable.

Everyone is overworked and exhausted, driven only by the adrenaline that comes from feeling that they are finally getting so close to their target. Knowing the enemies’ surname and faces is a huge step that will speed up Hibari's rescue mission. They can't stop here.

In the bat of an eye, Kusakabe proceeds to search for all the data about the two thugs. The mouse clicks resound nervously in his and Romario's ears and even more in Hibari's.

Kusakabe finds out their names, Maurizio and Antonio, and reads up about their criminal history — which is stained by murders and drug deals.

He comes up with a few more names and photos from the same gang, and the more he finds, the less Romario can wrap his head around how these ghosts from the past had the guts to come back and dared aim at his young master.

The picture of a guy seemingly in his thirties stands out from all the others, too much for him to be a simple underling. He has brown, neck-length hair, a wide forehead framed by two thick and symmetrical side bangs, big round glasses, eyes of the color of snow and a malicious smirk printed on his face.

His name is Diego, and he has been last seen operating in a basement as far as ten miles away from the Foundation base. Bingo.

Hibari and Kusakabe plan to hack into that basement system through a spam of useless data which will lead to a denial of service. After that, they'll take control of whatever device Diego may own: cameras, microphones, computers. Everything.

Romario, who is not so good with technology, just listens to them and hopes that this virtual attack will succeed.

* * *

About sixteen kilometers away, a monitor starts buzzing and getting colored with scattered pixels rather than showing high quality recordings of a man in hostage, lying miserably on the ground.

Taken off guard, Diego tries restoring the connection, but a few seconds later a blue window dominates the screen, and a white text begins to fill it, faster and faster, with the same message.

_"I will make you regret what you have done."_

Diego stares at the increasing wall of text as he feels his heart in his throat. He can't believe someone hacked his computer. He tries all he can to block the infection — too absorbed to realize he's groaning at his devices — but the virus is faster than his safety measures. His server gets overloaded. 

The monitor shuts down, pitch black, and the other screens follow.

Diego, who has been so tense that his shoulders begin to hurt, sinks with his back in his chair before rushing to get his spare laptop, and see if he can retrieve at least that.

The instant Kusakabe confirms the virus spam has finished its job, he takes full control of Diego's data. Even if he’s using bots to elude tracking, he has to work faster than light if he doesn't want the Irregolare to recover their system before the Foundation is done.

When the screen is filled with frames of the man who can be no other than the Bucking Horse, Hibari steps forward, saying that _he_ is going to talk to him.

His husband is consumed by hunger and injuries, his face is half covered by dirty hair, bruises — _tons_ of bruises — by the beard that he couldn't possibly shave, he is red stained from head to toe. It’s a sight that Hibari struggles not to avert his gaze from.

Dino isn't moving an inch. His eyes are shut. The angle makes it look like he doesn't have arms anymore. 

Hibari’s eyes are on fire. His teeth and lips begin to hurt. The chair where Hibari is leaning on is a grip away from cracking inside of his palms. He’s using all his strength on this poor chair to avoid letting his frustration show on his face. In fact, Romario doesn't notice any sulk, but Kusakabe doesn't miss that frown.

It’s so much to handle, but Kyoya grabs his microphone before he lets himself lose his control again. His tone is like a quiet breeze, compared to the hurricane of feelings in his heart.

"Dino." 

There comes no answer. 

"Dino," Hibari repeats, with more kindness rather than more impatience. He fights against the thought that screams to him that it’s too late. He knows it’s not. "Can you hear me?"

A bunch of seconds that feel like hours make Hibari, Kusakabe and Romario hold their breaths — then, they hear a sound coming from the other end of the screen. It's a dull chuckle that comes out of a dry mouth. And when Dino speaks, his voice is even weaker.

"What's this? Felt kind enough to make me listen to Kyoya's voice before I die?"

The worst kind of torture. A merciful but cruel last gift by his kidnapper, in Dino’s point of view. He has surrendered.

"It's _me_ , Dino."

"Liar." Diego must be using some autotune to make his voice sound like Kyoya’s. Dino doesn’t even have tears left to cry. “Get here and end me, already.”

“I’m coming there to _save_ you.”

“I'm gonna die here.”

"I thought we had already agreed that the only way you could die is getting killed by me," Hibari says in almost perfect Italian. He manages not to let his apprehension sneak from his lips, but the result is a flat threat.

The other men in the room stare at Hibari first and then at each other, evidently confused, and almost frightened by Hibari’s creepy affirmation. Kusakabe has never become as fluent in Italian as Hibari, but he gets the gist of it.

While they are weird to the subordinates, those words are enough to finally convince Dino that man _really_ is Kyoya, and instead of thinking that it’s strange to be given such a reminder, or being scared of it, his eyes open wide, and he is more relieved than ever.

Scattered mutters make Dino’s lips tremble, and the tears he wasn’t able to shed before now blur his sight.

Kyoya has reached him.

_Kyoya is there to save him._

A sigh frees Hibari’s lungs of the weight that clogged them. It’s louder than he had intended to be — meaning that the people by his side can still _only barely_ hear it — but he doesn’t mind. The seam of his mouth curves up, delighted.

Tetsuya has been working in the background the entire time to find Dino’s position. "Kyo-san! I have localized the Bucking Horse. It’s barely twenty meters north of the Irregolare guy’s position."

They’ve got this.

Hibari straightens his back, as a feeling way different from wrath runs through his veins. He issues a new order.

“Tetsu, go get the Bucking Horse out of there.” He may only refer to Kusakabe, but it includes Cavallone’s right-hand man too.

“What about you, Kyo-san?”

With a rush, Hibari takes a tonfa out of his thigh belt. Given the particular situation, the clack coming from his weapon is oddly reassuring to Kusakabe and Romario’s ears.

He will annihilate the culprit, Hibari replies.

Right after, Kyoya speaks to the microphone again, even softer than earlier. “Hold on a little longer, Dino.”

He is going to take as real a murmur that comes from the speakers and says, _“Anything for you.”_

The subordinates are ready to leave with medical treatments, Sun boxes, clothes, food and water.

Hibari picks two of his hedgehog boxes and puts them in his pocket. Then, he chooses a few rings from his supply. They’re mainly low ranked but he also decides to bring a couple of higher ranked jewels with him. In case the fight calls for it. Or in case he simply wants to make the enemy drown in the deepest of the abysses.

* * *

When you believe that you are not going to see the light of a new day, every good thing that happens to you feels like a dream, a mirage, a miracle.

The bronze ray that suddenly peeks inside of the jail after the door has been forced and dragged open, for example.

Or the sight of two men with rough but friendly faces, covered with strain and sweat but smiling and quickly approaching you.

Or the warmth that comes from human touch after days of being embraced by nothing but freezing cold.

Dino is too exhausted, mentally and physically, to fully understand what's going on. If he murmurs something to Romario and Kusakabe then he can’t even hear himself. If he laughs, he doesn’t even feel his mouth open. He can feel something wrap around his injured leg — a rudimental treatment that will need better care later — and he processes being lifted from the ground. Dino only has the strength to let himself be carried away from this place, all while the two subordinates scream to him not to give up, that they’ll be out in an instant.

Breathing fresh air is inebriating, it makes Dino wake up from the seconds long slumber he fell into as he escaped the prison. It gets to his head.

The blue hues of the night are good for his eyes as they don’t have to get used to intense colors all of a sudden, and Dino can finally look at the walls that caged him all this time — his lips curve up in a simper at the thought of being able to see the building from the outside.

Dino’s eyes are fixed on his right-hand man who is carefully patching his injuries, leaning a blanket on his shoulders and offering him water and a little snack, however his mind is still inside of the prison. He feels so dizzy that even opening his palms is too much of a task right now. Romario’s concern is strong in his ears, but it sounds distant all the same, and Dino can only reply with confused mutters to those questions that ask him how he feels, and gratitude to the tears of joy that sob how glad Romario is that his young master is safe.

Dino is out of the jail physically, but it’s going to take a while before he is able to get out of it _mentally._

Amber irids are staring at an indefinite spot far, far away. They watch a silhouette take shape and approach eagerly, although not in a hurry. Nimble and confident steps. Typical, given the person in question.

Dino squints, almost frowns, to try to identify the figure, in hope to see who he really wishes for.

When it’s finally close, Dino's eyelids don't feel heavy anymore. His eyes see nothing but that figure, a wheeze makes him breathless for a second. For him, a man dressed entirely in raven clothes is able to sparkle the brightest light even in this dark night.

Everything around Dino and Hibari stops as if even the stars were waiting for them to reconcile.

Dino is so happy to see Kyoya, and before he can think he tries to get up and walk up to him, only for his legs to fall victims of gravity, still wounded and still unable to stand his weight. He looks at Hibari apologetically, but there is no tension in Hibari's expression. Words aren't needed: his softened glance is enough to say that there is nothing to feel sorry about.

Hibari puts a hand on his husband’s cheek, rubbing it with his thumb, in a gentle caress. He feels the scratches, the scabs, the swollen bruises and the beard with this single touch. He never stops smiling at Dino as he holds his face.

Then, he wraps his arms around Dino's back and neck. Hibari's left hand hovers to Dino's scruff, slender fingers meet the tangles that ruffle his hair before they pat his head once, twice. Kindly, reassuringly.

The hand carries the wedding ring. Hibari put it back on when inside of the Irregolare's base remained nothing but embers. 

"It's over."

Dino can't do anything but let himself be cradled in the affection. He realizes he doesn't have enough strength to hug Kyoya back, and his arms sag in the void and his nose digs in the fabric of Hibari's suit — it stings of blood, but while it makes his head hurt again, it's also quite comforting.

Being in Kyoya's arms feels home.

Heaviness and drowsiness are back to bother Dino — actually they have never stopped — and it's like air is stuck in his lungs. He starts sobbing, getting louder and shaking more and more, until his sorrow flows in the form of tears and groans and wails and _"I missed you"_ s.

"It's over," Hibari repeats, because he knows how terrifying that experience must have been and he knows that Dino must still be struggling to believe that he’s out of it. 

Hibari lets Dino free himself of all his pain. His ears are filled with Dino’s pained howls. His hug gets tighter.

There may be a sulk on Kyoya’s face. Being able to stand Dino's anguish — for him, _with_ him — doesn't mean Hibari himself isn't suffering from seeing him in this state.

He doesn't say anything else until Dino calms down and breaks the touch. Not completely, just enough to look at Hibari in his eyes.

Dino is still sobbing when he whispers, "I didn't think I'd see you again."

"Did you believe I'd leave you to die there?"

Hibari still smiles as he asks, he is never harsh. It's not an attempt to guilt Dino or to take all the glory. It's more like the result of endless fights ended together. 

"No, no… I never doubted you'd rescue me," Dino's little chuckle turns out in a sigh, but he's obviously sincere. "But I lost hope that _I_ would make it."

Hibari bends down so that he can kiss Dino's forehead. He takes his time before standing up and meeting his bronze moons again. He notices that they're still watery: he wipes the tears away with his thumbs, caressing Dino's cheeks a second time. Then, slowly, he leans more to leave a soft kiss on Dino's lips.

Both of them had missed each other so bad.

Hibari holds Dino’s hands in his, delicately massaging them with his thumbs, noticing the scarlet signs of the rope that tied Dino up for days.

"You have survived many times, and you did it again."

Dino can only reply with a trembling smile. He sinks back in his husband's warm hug, finally murmuring, "Thank you for saving me."

After minutes of silence, Dino blurts out, "What's been of him?"

Hibari doesn't need a name to understand who he's talking about. "Let's say that if he is lucky, he may have managed to get away from hell, otherwise he must have met Charon by now."

The allusion to the greatest poet in Italian history sends a shiver down Dino's spine. He hesitates. _"L_ _et's say…_?"

"You're worrying too much," Hibari brushes off and sighs.

"You sound like you were more merciful than usual."

Hibari brings his face close to Dino's ears. What he whispers nearly makes Dino grin.

The haze of the night begins to lift. They look at the sky light up with the nuances of the sunrise. Knowing that this nightmare has come to an end brings peace to their hearts.

A full recovery may take months. Maybe years. Dino might even never _fully_ heal from this trauma. But now he remembers what it feels like to see the dawn after what had felt like a never ending darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> the main inspiration for this fic was [krigsgaldr](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K7ZqZVunCb4&list=LL9a3c5Im06DyjjxuGRdVikQ&index=31) by heilung. the titles and quotes come from its english lyrics
> 
> at first i created diego for this fic specifically, but i think i will make more works about/with him, so i hope you liked him ~~even tho he's fucked in the head, lol~~
> 
> thank you for reading, and thank you if you kudo/bookmark/comment ♡


End file.
